


The Perfect Loving Family

by supercantaloupe



Category: Dimension 20 (Web Series), Fantasy High
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst, Campaign 01 Season 02: Fantasy High Sophomore Year (Dimension 20), Canon Compliant, Childhood Memories, Family Drama, Fantasy High Sophomore Year Spoilers (Dimension 20), Flashbacks, Friendship, Gen, Growing Up, Haircuts, Post-Canon, Pre-Canon, Recovery, Sister-Sister Relationship, the abernants are a fucked up family and theyre still figuring out how to deal with that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:02:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26448967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supercantaloupe/pseuds/supercantaloupe
Summary: Some ghosts are never gone / But we go on / We still go onIt's a late, rainy night in Mordred Manor, not long after the end of sophomore year. Though the rest of the household sleeps, the Abernant sisters sit awake, reflecting on their past, and considering their future.
Relationships: Adaine Abernant & Aelwen Abernant, Adaine Abernant & Ayda Aguefort, Adaine Abernant & Figueroth Faeth, Adaine Abernant & The Bad Kids, Aelwen Abernant & Everyone, Ayda Aguefort/Figueroth Faeth, The Abernant sisters & their parents, boy does it bother me that all the tags for aelwyn are misspelled
Comments: 10
Kudos: 66





	The Perfect Loving Family

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for Fantasy High: Sophomore Year.

Rain drummed softly on the roof of Mordred Manor. Clouds had rolled in over the afternoon, and it had begun a steady rain long into the night. Normally the sound of rain on the roof made a soothing soundtrack to sleep to, and certainly for most of the manor’s inhabitants it was no different tonight; but Adaine stayed up late, unable or uninterested in trancing, instead sitting on her bunk and staring out the window. She watched the raindrops patter against the glass and roll down in streaks. There was almost no moonlight out tonight, and what little there was was darkened and obscured by the clouds, so there was almost nothing to see, yet Adaine watched anyway. It was something to look at, something to focus on, something to ease her turbulent mind, with thoughts swirling ceaselessly like the clouds or the wind. All the rest of the house was quiet and still.

Quiet enough, in fact, that she could easily hear anything out of place against the sound of the rain, like the soft rustling of pages. As though someone were flipping through a book in a library, or keeping a secret.

Adaine hugged her knees and leaned back against the wall. She sent a message cantrip to her sister.

_“Are you awake?”_

She was met with silence. Real silence, actually -- the noise of paper turning stopped.

_“I know you’re reading, I can hear you turning pages.”_

She heard a sigh from the bunk above her. A beat later, her sister messaged back.

_“I’m awake. Why aren’t you trancing? It’s the middle of the night.”_

_“Why aren’t you?”_

_“You figured that out already. I’m reading.”_

_“What are you reading?”_

Another sigh, and a rustle of pages. _“Just some enchantment research. Nothing special.”_

Adaine smiled to herself. That was a lie, she could tell from the tone. It was early summer, and Aelwyn was out of school by now anyway. She was actually reading a trashy romance novel. Aelwyn thought she’d taken it from the Elmville library very surreptitiously, but her little sister had seen.

_“Why are you awake, sister?”_ Aelwyn messaged again. 

Adaine exhaled and stared out the window again. _“I dunno. I just couldn’t trance tonight.”_

_“Is something the matter?”_

_“No, I...I’ve just been thinking.”_

Silence.

_“Do you want to talk about it?”_ Aelwyn asked. 

Adaine took a deep breath in and let it out. She leaned her chin on her knees. _“Did you ever think we’d end up here like this?”_

_“...in bunk beds in a haunted house? Not precisely--”_

_“No, I mean...well, yeah, actually.”_ Adaine thought about how to phrase it right. 

_“I can’t say I ever did.”_

_“I mean, did you ever think a place like this would feel like home?”_ Adaine asked. She heard Aelwyn above her go still. _“Or that we’d be staying up late and messaging like this?”_

A beat. _“I think I can honestly say I never did.”_

There was a long silence. Then Adaine got another message.

_“Do you miss how things were before at all?”_

Now it was Adaine’s turn to consider that. She frowned. She had been unable to put her finger on just what was keeping her up tonight, but Aelwyn seemed to have stumbled upon something.

_“...I think I do. I know it was awful and we’re so much better off now, but...in a weird way, I do.”_

Even through message, Aelwyn sounded quiet and small. _“I do too.”_

* * *

The air was cool and the ground damp with dew the last morning the Abernant family spent in Fallinel. Most of their wares and possessions had already been ferried across the sea via teleports and elven mage porters; there was little left for them to do in order to finish their move except teleport over themselves. Angwyn in his office finished tying up loose ends with the Council of Chosen over his new position as Elven Ambassador to Fallinel in Solace via advanced telecommunication magic; meanwhile, Arianwen finished up in her own office, organizing and tucking away the last bits of her research to transfer over to Elmville at her new tenured position at Hudol College. She stacked them neatly together and had an Unseen Servant whisk them away for her. Then she left her now-empty office and began down the hall to the streets outside, looking for her children.

Buildings and streets here were closely arranged, built from immaculate stone bricks and lined with arches, elevated bridges, neat staircases, and small patches of pristine foliage in public squares. This section of the Capital was nearly exclusively home to scholars and mid-level government officials and their families; the Fallinese upper-middle class, the white collar professionals, the social-climbing bureaucrats. Arianwen finally spotted a group of young children playing in the courtyard below their domicile, and quickened her step down a flight of stairs to reach them.

“Adaine, come here at once,” she ordered, reaching the courtyard. A small blonde-haired girl, maybe seven years old, stumbled in the grass and immediately stopped her running and playing with the other children at Arianwen’s call. The girl picked herself up to her feet and hurried over.

“Yes mother?” little Adaine answered, stopping in front of Arianwen and looking up nervously. 

“What are you doing out here running around? You’re supposed to be finishing your packing,” Arianwen scolded. Her daughter’s ears drooped a bit as she frowned. “Look at you, you’re a mess, darling, and not even in your travelling clothes. You should be ready to go by now. What’s the matter with you? Where is your sister?”

“I told you so,” said another voice. Adaine bit her lip and stared at the ground. A second blonde girl, a few years older, came striding over with a bag. 

“Ah, Aelwyn,” Arianwen exhaled. “There you are.”

Aelwyn set her bag down. “I told her to stop playing and finish packing and get changed already, but she wouldn’t listen,” she explained with a very self-important, patronizing tone. 

“I’m done already!” Adaine snapped back, glaring at her sister. 

“Oh yeah? Where’s your bag, then?” Aelwyn folded her arms.

“It’s inside!” Adaine’s face reddened in anger.

“Why aren’t you changed yet then? Mummy said to be ready to go by now.”

Adaine thrust a hand out behind her. “I wanted to say goodbye to Kirin and Halamar--”

“Your sister is right, Adaine,” Arianwen interrupted reproachfully. Aelwyn beamed. Adaine withered. “Go inside and change and get your things. As soon as your father is ready we’re leaving.”

“Yes, mother,” Adaine answered, backing away, then turning and racing off into a building, keeping her head down. The other kids in the courtyard had paused their playing to listen in on the scene, and watched their friend turn and run inside; they hastily resumed their activity when they noticed her mother looking up and out at them too.

A few minutes later Adaine trudged back out in a travelling cloak and shouldering an overstuffed bag, returning to her mother and sister.

“Your father just messaged he’s ready. Come along now.” Arianwen turned to go, with Aelwyn close behind. Adaine glanced back nervously at the other children.

“Can’t I say goodbye please -- really quick--” she pleaded.

“Adaine,” her mother snapped. “We mustn’t delay.” She shot a look back to her younger daughter and held out a hand insistently. Adaine bit her lip, holding back tears. She glanced one last time at the other children before returning to her mother’s side. Arianwen took her hand and kept walking, squeezing tight enough to make Adaine’s fingers uncomfortable and practically drag her along. “If you’re good we may come back and visit at some point, if your father’s work is going well,” Arianwen added in hollow reassurance. Little Adaine was only seven but already knew what an empty comfort that was. She would probably never see those friends again. She tried to take deep breaths.

They wound their way through streets to the front of a tall, grand building with flags flying above its entrance. At the top of the steps before the grand doors stood Angwyn Abernant, with his own provisions and traveller’s cloak. He was tapping his foot and looking at a small object with a glowing face in his hand. Hearing Arianwen and the girls approaching, he looked up from the object and pocketed it. “There you are,” he said, a little gruffly. “The driver is waiting.”

“We had to wait for Adaine to go get changed,” Aelwyn tattled, holding her head up confidently. “She was still playing.” Adaine looked ready to protest again, but their father cut her off before she could even open her mouth.

“Enough. It’s time to go.”

Aelwyn hurried forward and hopped up the steps to meet her father at the top. Arianwen followed, with Adaine still dragged along beside. “Take your father’s hand,” she instructed once they reached the top. Adaine trained her eyes on the ground again and felt her father take her free hand in his. 

She heard her father mutter a spell. In the next moment the stones on the ground gave way to blinding, dizzying streaks of light as they began teleporting through space, far from home. Adaine squeezed her eyes shut and fought back a wave of nausea. 

Moments later, when she peeked her eyes open again, she found them standing somewhere completely beyond recognition. She gazed around, gaping. The buildings here were shiny like glass, with remarkably smooth, straight sides and corners. The ground wasn’t laid with cobblestones like she expected. Trees were a lot shorter and squatter than the ones she knew in the great tall forests of Fallinel. And there seemed to be a constant _noise_ to everything here, like a quiet living humming coming from everything all around her.

“Adaine, Aelwyn,” she heard her father beckon. She turned to look. She didn’t realize her parents had let go of her hands and walked away, that she’d been staring around this place so transfixed. “Come along.” 

He was standing beside an odd looking thing; it was large and wheeled, with silver latches on the side, and was shaped almost like a carriage. But there was no seat on the front for a driver, nor hitches of any kind for horses to draw it. And it was a sleek, shiny black, but unlike a familiar carriage, it seemed almost sinister to Adaine. A man in an odd suit came around and pulled on one of the latches; a door opened, and Angwyn stepped inside and sat down. The man moved to pull open the next latch and another door opened; he motioned for the rest of them to come in. Arianwen moved first. Adaine felt herself frozen.

“Get inside,” Angwyn ordered. “We’re driving to the new house.”

“What is that?” Adaine asked, a little nervously. 

“It’s a car,” Aelwyn said, rolling her eyes. Of course, she’d never seen one before either, and was truthfully a bit wary herself, but she wasn’t about to admit that. She came over and climbed in after her mother, taking the middle seat. Adaine came over too, but was still much more hesitant.

“How does it -- there’s no horses. How does it drive?” She touched the door with her hand.

Aelwyn sighed dramatically. “It’s _archanotech._ Solace is _filled_ with it. Don’t you _read?”_

Adaine felt her cheeks heat up again, but her mother said “Adaine, get in the car,” and she could do nothing else but swallow her nerves and climb inside. The man in the suit shut the door behind her and she found herself squished between her sister and the window, through which she stared the whole long drive once they hit the road.

* * *

“...at the same time...nothing’s ever felt quite like _home_ until here.” Adaine thought aloud, lying on her back with her feet pressed up on the bottom of the bunk above her. The rain continued to patter gently on the window. “It’s kind of funny, I felt more at home right away with a werewolf with whom my first interaction was him almost infecting me with lycanthropy than I did in my own house with my own parents.”

“Mm,” Aelwyn responded. They’d switched from messaging to just speaking aloud when Adaine had pointed out that, with the rain and the late hour and the isolated location of the tower, they really weren’t going to be waking anyone up by having a simple conversation. Aelwyn had thought about that, and realized why her instinct was to be as quiet as possible. “Do you remember Fallinel at all, Adaine?”

“I mean, I guess,” Adaine shrugged. “I didn’t see that much of it? I got teleported right into Calethriel, and we left Kei Lumenura pretty much right after you did.”

“I mean when we were little, before we moved. Not this year.”

“Oh.” Adaine searched her memory. “Only a little,” she finally admitted.

“You were very young. I suppose that makes sense.”

“Why do you ask?”

“I suppose when I think of...being at home, I remember our old flat in the capital.”

“Oh.” Adaine tried to picture it, but found only vaguest scraps of images from almost a decade ago in her mind. Tall stone buildings and arches and little grass courtyards. Her mom’s hand tight around her own. Spring break was her first time back on the continent since she was seven. “Well, you grew up there. More than I did, anyway.”

“Not very much more.” She only had two and a half years on her younger sister. And it wasn’t exactly her habit to put down very deep roots. 

“Did you want to stay?” They both knew well that Adaine had wanted to.

Aelwyn thought about this. “Truthfully, I think it didn’t matter much to me where we went. If mother and father said to go, I went.”

Adaine nodded, though from the bottom bunk no one saw. Like usual, it seemed everything that had to do with their parents had been harder for her than for her sister. _Well, maybe not,_ Adaine reminded herself. It still took some reminding from time to time.

“I think if I had made friends like you back then, moving might have been harder,” Aelwyn added, very softly. Adaine stared at the bunk above her, quiet, waiting for her sister to elaborate. When she didn’t, Adaine responded herself.

“Well, I guess you were fine as long as mother and father were happy.”

“Mm.” A pause. “Well, I knew you would be fine soon enough, anyway. There was no sense in worrying over it even then.”

“What do you mean?”

Adaine heard her sister sigh. “You never did very well when mother and father--” she paused and corrected herself. “When _we_ were there to scold you. But once we got to Solace I could tell you’d be alright. You wouldn’t just have us to deal with anymore. You’d make friends.”

“I didn’t, though. Not until last year, really.”

“Oh, that isn’t true,” Aelwyn sounded almost condescending again, almost like her old self. Almost. “You made plenty of friends at Hudol.”

“Classmates,” Adaine corrected, frowning. “We barely kept in touch.”

“Adaine, you were making acquaintances from the moment we arrived in Elmville. I knew right away you’d be fine.” Adaine blinked. She thought she’d remembered that day pretty clearly, but that didn’t seem right. Aelwyn paused to let that sink in, then sniffed pointedly. “As usual, I was right, because you seem to be doing rather _splendid_ now, with all those little Bad Kid friends of yours.”

“And yours,” Adaine added. “I know they didn’t warm up to you as fast but they will. I mean, as long as you don’t try to kill us again.” She heard a chuckle from the top bunk and smiled. “You can be a Bad Kid too if you want.”

“Mm. Maybe.” Truthfully she didn’t know how to feel about the offer. Part of her felt it more than a little awkward to be begging for companionship from your little sister’s best friends, especially when you’ve tried to blast them off the roof of a house and raise an ancient dragon in their school gymnasium, or when you’ve immediately double-crossed them after they very selflessly and dangerously worked to rescue you from torture in a high security prison tower. Another part of her still wasn’t ready to accept that she deserved friends like that, or friends at all, especially not without earning them. “Maybe I’ll start by befriending that half-elf boy--”

_“Aelwyn,”_ Adaine groaned, throwing her head back against her pillow. She could practically hear the shit-eating grin spreading across her sister’s face.

“What’s wrong with that? You want me to make friends, and he seems like a _fine_ place to start--”

“Aelwyn, I _swear,_ do _not_ start talking about sex with my friend or so help me I will kick you out of this room and you’ll have to live on the couch for a week.”

“Now Adaine, why would I move to the couch when there’s a perfectly good bed waiting for me over at Seacaster Manor--”

There was a heavy _thunk_ as Adaine kicked the bottom of the top bunk to shut her sister up. Aelwyn erupted into laughter. Adaine pursed her lips. “Why can’t you act your age?”

“I do believe I am, dear sister. Why don’t you?”

“Hey, I’m traumatized, I don’t have to be as horny as the rest of you.” Aelwyn’s snickering trailed off somewhat. “Come on. It’s not _that_ funny.”

“No, no, you’re right, it’s not.” Aelwyn conceded, then added, “You getting upset is what’s funny.” Adaine kicked the bunk again and Aelwyn broke into laughter again.

“Will you shut up? You’ll wake people!” Adaine hissed.

“Now who’s worried about noise?” Aelwyn shot back, still chuckling.

Adaine made a face and sighed. She supposed that even the best of sisters bickered and teased sometimes. They’d come a long way in a short time, but they still had a hell of a long way to go still. They could still be open, and talk honestly, and acknowledge that they were fucked up, and be loving and caring sisters about it, even if they still fought sometimes. They weren’t bad siblings for it. She took another breath in and let it out, like she practiced. Swinging her feet down and onto the floor, she scooted to the edge of the bed and stood up.

“What are you doing?” Aelwyn asked, peering down from the top bunk. Adaine didn’t look up, instead simply shuffling over to her desk.

“I’m just gonna stretch my legs for a bit,” she replied. “Maybe get some tea, if you want any.” She picked up her glasses from the corner of her desk and put them on, and gave a sleeping Boggy in his little terrarium a comforting pat. 

“No thank you,” Aelwyn responded simply. Adaine glanced up at her briefly before leaving the room and disappearing down the staircase, shutting the door behind her. 

* * *

They drove for what felt like a very long time. From street signs that passed so quickly by the window, little Adaine learned that they had teleported to a place called Bastion City, but were soon driving away and through more open territory. Looking at the dizzyingly tall and shiny buildings of the city, Adaine was at first unsure why you’d ever want to be there at all, but driving through the expansive rural countryside, she found herself wondering why you’d ever want to leave the city in the first place. But mostly, she didn’t think about much at all, and simply stared out the window, taking in the sights of this new and unfamiliar place. 

The Abernants didn’t leave the city much back home, but Adaine could recall from the few times they had that Fallinel looked nothing like this. Blue-green fields of grass in Fallinel rolled on for acres and shimmered silver with dew in morning light. Forests of great trees grew tall and straight, with nothing at the ground level between trunks to block your path. Crystal-clear, gently babbling streams ran between hills. Majestic mountains stood proudly purple and green in the distance. Roads were cobbled in towns, and neatly padded dirt elsewhere. They traveled by horseback and carriage.

Solace didn’t look anything like Fallinel. There were still fields and forests, sure, but no mountains in the distance, no soft silver-blue light reflecting off the morning dew. Meadows were expansive seas of bright green and yellow grasses waving in the breeze. Forests were not so bright or spacious; trees grew more close and squat and tangled, and all kinds of saplings and bushes and brambles covered the floor between them, yet the light that broke through the canopies in dapples made it beckon mysteriously for exploration. Golden light seemed to radiate off the world. The roads, even here in the countryside, were neither dirt nor cobblestones, but some kind of hard, flat, smooth rock surface laid down just for Solace’s strange archanotech cars. They raced along far faster than Adaine had ever gone before in any carriage or on any horseback, yet through the window she still spotted bright pops of color as wildflowers growing along the roadside streaked past the car.

The longer she stared out that window, the less afraid Adaine felt. 

* * *

Adaine walked softly through the halls of Mordred Manor. The rain largely masked what little sound her feet made on the old wooden floorboards. Going down the staircase from her tower room, she brushed her fingers along the spines of books on the shelves that lined the walls. She remembered only a few months ago the joy of putting them all in their places when they first moved in; already, she realized there were volumes misplaced, and made a mental note to rearrange them soon. _That will be a fun afternoon project,_ she thought with a small grin.

The staircase opened to one of the main hallways of the manor. Adaine didn’t bother turning on a light; she could navigate well enough by her dark vision, and didn’t want to disturb anyone. The kitchen was down another flight of stairs on the first floor, but she felt like taking a bit of a scenic route on her way there. One could never be too familiar with this house’s many secret passageways, after all. 

She avoided Sandralynn’s room. A wood elf, a ranger, and an experienced mother, Adaine figured she was the most likely to catch her up at this hour, and simply didn’t feel like explaining anything to a full adult right now. She also avoided Kristen’s and Tracker’s rooms; she loved her friends to death, truly, but she also knew them well enough to not want to risk hearing, seeing, or interrupting anything she didn’t want to hear, see, or interrupt. Jawbone she could hear was fast asleep in his own room, snoring. No reason to disturb him; she kept walking down the hall and descended the grand staircase to the foyer. 

There were fewer occupied rooms on the first floor; Adaine found herself less overly cautious with her steps, and hummed quietly to herself as she went, the melody to a Cig Figs song from their newest album. Not far past the living room were the Barkrocks; they’d set Lydia’s room up on the first floor for ease of wheelchair accessibility when she moved in, and Ragh took the room right next door to be nearby (though, especially right when they’d first returned from spring break and moved in, it wasn’t uncommon for him to spend entire nights at her side). Adaine decided to take a hidden hallway to go around them and give them space. She instead passed by the piano room, Fig’s room, on her journey. The door was open a crack, and Adaine noticed a soft orange glow coming through. She quieted herself and, curious, peeked in. She found Fig fast asleep on the bed, with a similarly cozy Ayda lying beside her, covering the two of them with her wings like a blanket. Adaine smiled and slipped away, resuming her humming when she felt she was a safe distance away not to be heard.

Finally reaching the kitchen, she took a deep breath, and paused for a moment to look once again at the raindrops streaking across the windows. There was something otherworldly about being the only person up in the middle of the night in a storm. It was lonely, but not altogether uncomfortable. It felt very contemplative. A good time and place to think on whatever might trouble you. Adaine almost felt herself wishing school was still in session; what a perfect night to pour into research for homework. Alas, it was summer, and she was lacking in assignments at the moment. Ah, well. _I can make my own assignments,_ she figured, _and I’ll start by assigning myself to make some tea._ She moved to the cupboard and reached up to retrieve a mug. 

“Adaine?”

She nearly dropped her mug, barely catching it before it could crash to the counter below. 

“Sorry, I did not mean to startle you.” Ayda stood in the doorway, holding her hands up, and looking concerned. 

“Hi Ayda. Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in,” Adaine caught her breath, set the mug down, and looked to her friend. “I didn’t know you were, um, here.”

“I came over to spend the night with Fig,” Ayda explained, her fingers fidgeting. She looked a little nervous. “I like sleeping beside her and she says she likes using my wing as a blanket. Is that weird?”

Adaine smiled softly. “No, that’s not -- I think that’s really sweet.” She saw Ayda relax a bit. “I knew you were here -- in the house, I mean, just not, _here_ here --” Adaine caught herself stumbling over her words and paused to breathe and collect herself again. “I didn’t realize you were awake is all.”

“Nor I you,” Ayda responded, looking at Adaine curiously. 

“Sorry -- did I wake you up?” Adaine asked, feeling sheepish. 

“No, I awoke when I heard a noise from somewhere else. It almost sounded like laughter.”

_“Fucking Aelwyn,”_ Adaine grumbled under her breath.

“I heard you in the hallway a few minutes later. I like that song you were humming.”

“I do too,” Adaine smiled a little again. So did Ayda. 

“Why are you awake now?” Ayda asked, clasping her hands behind her back.

“Ah--,” Adaine said, glancing down. “I couldn’t -- I didn’t feel like trancing yet.”

“Is there something on your mind? Did you come down to talk about it?”

“No, I came down to make some tea…” Adaine wrapped her fingers around the mug and tapped it a few times, thinking for a moment. “Well, yeah, actually...Would you like some tea too?” She offered. 

“I would,” Ayda answered, after a beat. Adaine reached to pull down another mug.

* * *

After a while of driving, the open road through wide fields and forest gave way to smaller streets winding and crisscrossing through a town of sorts. It felt too small and spacious to call a city; the city she was familiar with was all tightly-packed together fortresses of stones, arches, and facades, and streets, many only wide enough to accommodate a couple of pedestrians at a time, wove their way between and around and through like a labyrinth. Nor was this place quite like the dizzying, shining heights she saw only briefly in Bastion City. A sign beside the road as they drove in called it Elmville. There were some larger buildings here, but also many more smaller ones, and much more spread out. Yet they were far more robust looking than any she’d seen in a village travelling through Fallinel, and she’d never really seen small towns before now either. The paved roads led all throughout town; the idea of a place you couldn’t simply walk anywhere in confused Adaine. But she did see lots and lots more of these strange archanotech cars everywhere; it must be a normal thing there. _We must be getting one and learning to use it too,_ she thought, _when we get wherever we’re going._

Finally, after a long ride, the car pulled up to a long driveway and parked in front of a large, stately looking house. Adaine and Aelwyn both leaned close to the window of the car to look out and see what was around. There were other cars parked around too, mostly larger ones, from which a few workers were busy removing large boxes and carrying them up and into the house. The last of their belongings being moved in. Besides them there was also a man standing around, holding one of those devices in his hand that their father had, and looking around the yard for something. When their car pulled up and the driver stepped out, the man looked up, put the object away in his pocket, and began walking over. 

Angwyn opened the door to the passenger seat and stepped out of the car. The driver came around and opened the rear door for Arianwen, who also stepped out. The girls were both too enthralled at the sights and too nervous to move anywhere themselves just yet. Their mother noticed after a moment.

“Come along, girls.” 

“Open the door already,” Aelwyn said, reaching over her sister. Adaine struggled to shove her away, while also fumbling with the handle of the door.

“I’m _trying,”_ she whined. The latch wouldn’t undo, or she couldn’t figure it out; the door wouldn’t open. “Stop _pushing_ me! It won’t _open.”_

“Let me do it,” Aelwyn insisted, reaching forward again and pushing her sister against the seat. She tried to fumble with the door handle as well, to no avail.

“Aelwyn!” Adaine cried as an elbow jabbed into her gut. “Get _off_ me!”

“Girls!” Arianwen snapped. “Get out at once.” 

The driver noticed and came around the other side of the car. “Child locks,” he said, pulling on their door from the outside. It suddenly opened, and the two girls tumbled out onto the ground. Their mother was not pleased.

“Get up and grab your bags,” she instructed, not looking at them. Aelwyn scowled at the ground and picked herself up, brushing dirt off her robes and grabbing her bag from inside the car. Adaine picked herself up too, rubbing her palms, sore from the impact of the fall. Grabbing her own bag, she trailed her sister over to follow Arianwen.

The man in the driveway had come over and was speaking to their father when they got out. “...and if you should need any help adjusting, I would be happy to help. I know Solesian archanotech can be an adjustment.”

“I have experience in Solace, I’m quite familiar with crystals and the like,” Angwyn replied. Well-timed, there was a noise from his pocket, and he pulled out the little object with the glowing screen again. “Apologies. I must answer this,” he sighed to the man, then gestured to his wife. “Please.” The man nodded understandingly, and Angwyn walked off a short bit, lifting the object to his ear and speaking into it. The man in the driveway turned to Arianwen and smiled warmly, stepping forward and offering his hand to shake. Aelwyn stood stately and frowning at her side, Adaine timidly a little behind her legs.

“Gilear Faeth,” he introduced himself. He was a tidy looking wood elf, maybe around their father’s age. “I was a diplomat in Fallinel for several years before I moved to Solace. I haven’t worked in that area for quite some time, but they informed me the new Ambassador would be moving in today, and it seemed only proper that I visit and offer a formal welcome. You must be--?”

Their mother shook his hand. “Arianwen Abernant.” She glanced down, and placed a hand on both Aelwyn’s and Adaine’s shoulders, gently but firmly pushing the latter out from behind her. “And these are my daughters,” she continued. “Introduce yourselves to Mr. Faeth, girls.”

Dutifully, Aelwyn held her head up and obeyed. “Aelwyn Abernant,” she introduced herself with a lofty air for a ten year old. 

Less pompously, Adaine followed suit. “I’m Adaine.”

Gilear smiled warmly at them and crouched down to be closer to eye level. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Misses Aelwyn and Adaine.” The two girls blinked at him. He stood back up and drew a breath, unperterbed. “I have a daughter of my own around about their age--” he began.

As if on cue, another child appeared from behind one of the moving vans and ran gleefully across the driveway, colliding with her father’s legs and hugging onto them in a shriek of laughter. Adaine and Aelwyn flinched and stepped back, surprised at the girl’s sudden and forceful appearance. 

Gilear grunted at the sudden impact of a child on his leg, but chuckled it off. “Speaking of -- say hello, Figueroth,” he instructed gently, ushering her forward. Aside to Arianwen, he added, “I apologize, my wife is busy working today and I couldn’t find a sitter on such short notice.”

The girl looked at the pair of Abernant sisters curiously. A little wood elf, her brown hair was pulled back in pigtails and she wore a pale yellow shirt, flower-print shorts, and a pair of sandals. Her cheeks were rosy pink, she was missing a baby tooth or two, and she had just a hint of pudge on her belly. “I’m Figueroth,” she introduced herself, tilting her head. “You’re dressed funny.”

_“You’re_ dressed funny,” Adaine countered. She’d never seen clothes like that before. 

“What’s your name?” Figueroth asked.

“Adaine.”

Figueroth looked at the other sister. “What’s yours?”  
  


“Aelwyn.” She pursed her lips.

“That’s a weird name.” Adaine stifled a laugh.

“It’s _elven,”_ Aelwyn shot back, scowling. “It’s _normal._ It’s not weirder than _Figueroth.”_

Instead of getting upset, the girl beamed instead. “I know, right? My mom gave me a cool name, ‘cause she’s awesome. I’m _never_ gonna change it.” Aelwyn made a face like she didn’t know how to deal with this response at all. 

“I think it’s a neat name,” Adaine offered softly. 

“Thanks! I do too,” Figueroth beamed again. “I like the name Adaine too. It’s pretty.” Adaine smiled. “Why are you dressed like that?” She asked, reaching and grabbing a bit of her robe and feeling it between her fingers. 

“It’s a travelling cloak,” Adaine explained. “We just got here from Fallinel.”

“Fallinel!” Figueroth exclaimed. “My daddy used to work there. Is this your first time in Elmville?” Adaine nodded. “We should be friends, then. We’re the same age. I can show you around. Daddy’ll take us in his car. You’re gonna like it here.”

“I _don’t_ want to be friends with you,” Aelwyn jabbed. “I don’t need to be friends with little kids.”

“You’re little too,” Figueroth pointed out.

“I’m _ten.”_

“I’m seven.”

“I’m seven too,” Adaine offered. "I think we can be friends." Figueroth smiled at her again. Adaine smiled too.

“Perfect!” 

“Girls, bring your bags inside. You can start unpacking in your new rooms,” Arianwen instructed, pressing again gently but firmly on their shoulders. Aelwyn shot a look to Figueroth before turning and walking off to the house. Adaine lingered for a moment, frowning, not wanting to leave just yet but also not wanting to disobey her mother. She glanced up at Arianwen briefly, then back at Figueroth before beginning to quietly walk up to the house as well. Figueroth watched them go; her father said something to her that Adaine couldn’t quite hear. He bent down and she wrapped her arms around his neck, and he stood and picked her up. Figueroth squirmed to turn enough to face the house, and waved a hand enthusiastically in the air. Adaine turned back to catch a look. It was a sight to behold.

“Bye!” she called to the sisters.

“Well,” Gilear said, adjusting his grip on his daughter and chuckling to Arianwen. “If you should need anything while you’re settling in, do let me know. Welcome to Elmville.”

* * *

Up in the wizards' tower, Aelwyn sat on the top bunk and leaned against the wall. Her book sat open on her lap, but she didn't turn the page, and she hadn't for a while. She was no longer reading. She was thinking.

About what specifically, it was hard to say. It seemed her mind liked to float between topics, never settling on one thought or another memory for long enough to get to the bottom of it. She tried to remember childhood in Elmville, but found her mind drifting inevitably to her parents, or of her being a bitch to her sister. She tried to remember her friends and her time at Hudol, but found her mind drifting to Penelope Everpetal and Biz Glitterdew and Kalvaxus. She tried to remember Fallinel as a young girl, but found her mind drifting back to her time at Calethriel -- or what she'd gleaned of it from Adaine's memories, anyway. There was no undoing that reset in her head. The cancer was cut away, but it felt like they forgot to fill the hole left behind. It was gone from her memory but still there in her soul.

Aelwyn sighed and shut her book, setting it aside. It was doing her no good now. She crawled over to the edge of the bed and climbed down from the top bunk. The wood floor was almost warm underneath her feet. She wasn't sure really what she was looking for; she figured she might as well just look. 

Adaine's desk caught her eye. She shuffled over to it and examined the contents laid out on its surface. _(It's not snooping if we share the room and she left it sitting out,_ she reasoned.) Boggy slept contentedly in his terrarium, rippling ever so slightly with each breath. She gave him a reassuring pat on the head. _It's an absolute goddamn wonder how Adaine managed to summon a familiar so perfectly comforting,_ Aelwyn thought. _She really is a better wizard than we ever gave her credit for._

In front of Boggy's terrarium sat the empty case to Adaine's glasses, her crystal plugged in to charge, and her anxiety medication. Aelwyn picked up the bottle and turned it around in her fingers, reading the label. One thing she could remember well was how invasive Adaine's panic attacks and stresses used to be. She managed it so well now she seemed halfway to being a new person entirely. The girl that rescued her from Calethriel tower, the girl she'd fought beside in the forest of the Nightmare King, even the girl on the roof of Ostentatia Wallace's house was certainly not the same girl who flunked her entrance exam to Hudol's upper school. That she got as far as she did in life without any help from her family was honestly remarkable. Aelwyn felt another twinge of guilt. _I contributed to that. I held her back. She could have been so much better so much sooner._ Aelwyn forced herself to take a deep breath; she put the bottle down. That was the past; this is the present. Adaine was getting help; maybe she could too.

In the middle of the desk sat an old Hudol notebook. Aelwyn recognized it immediately; it was a hand-me-down of hers given to Adaine near the end of her 8th grade year to study for exams. The exam she flunked. The exam that sent her to Aguefort, that changed her life. Aelwyn traced the lettering on the cover with her finger. Despite her snooping curiosity, respect and restraint held her back from opening it and taking a peek inside. It had been two years by now, anyway; no way was this notebook still being used for study. Adaine was a meticulous notetaker and an excellent student, it would have filled up months ago. _And if it's not schoolwork, it's none of my business,_ Aelwyn told herself.

Looking back over the desk, Aelwyn found a second crystal, also plugged in and charging, though by now it was at full battery and turned off. When Aelwyn had been arrested over a year ago, the Elmville police had confiscated all she had on her; her wallet, the palimpsest, her crystal. When the elven strike team arrived and broke her out, they left it behind in their haste. The rest of the memory was lost from her mind when Adaine found and activated her memory's failsafe in Fallinel, but in the hubbub of the quest, she hadn't thought about her crystal at all in a long time. With the Kalvaxus Kaper (as they called it) fully wrapped up and closed for some time, and Aelwyn in the process of officially gaining Solesian citizenship and the amnesty that came with, it wasn't too difficult for Riz and Sklonda to pull the necessary strings to get her belongings back from the evidence lockup. In that time it'd run through all its battery life and sat undisturbed for almost a year, until recently. Aelwyn knew they'd gotten it back for her (Adaine had shown her right away), but until now she couldn't bring herself to look at it. She took a deep breath and pressed the power button until the screen lit up.

It took several seconds for the crystal to power on fully. When it did, the screen flashed to display her lockscreen: a digital clock reading the current date and time, an icon indicating the weather, an icon indicating the moon phase, an icon to open the camera, an icon to make a call, and a background image. The image set to the lockscreen was an old photo of Aelwyn with two of her Hudol classmates, friends from her advanced classes. She frowned and wondered what they were up to now. They would have graduated by now. Aelwyn realized that made her a dropout. A failure.

As the crystal connected to cell reception, old notifications streamed in, flooding the lockscreen. She swiped to open them, fumbling at first to remember her passcode and type it in correctly. After a couple tries she was in. The background image on her home screen was a photo of her on a vacation in Fallinel from a couple years prior, looking hot and happy and carefree. She sighed. _I should never have gone back there. None of this would have happened._

The notifications blinked across the screen; she began to navigate through them, almost all of them a year old or more at this point. The most recent ones were from the cell company warning of unpaid bills and overdue charges. She ignored these and scrolled through older ones. 

There were old emails in her inbox from Hudol about assignments and grades, an official warning followed by an official suspension followed by an official expulsion. Messages ranging from worried to cross to simply ponderous and even indifferent from professors regarding her sudden disappearance, and the rumors surrounding it. It seemed too fantastical to be true, that the star pupil would have been arrested on such wild charges, and then for war to break out the next day and for her to disappear into thin air, that she was somehow the cause of it all. It was all true, of course, though difficult to glean from here if people truly believed it or if it spread as entertaining gossip. But the dates on the messages were all close to when she'd disappeared. She had no way of knowing if talk of her lingered, or if everyone stopped thinking of her, stopped caring entirely, as soon as the mystery stopped being new and interesting. Aelwyn felt ashamed.

There were a few messages from Hudol classmates from right after her arrest, asking where she was, why she didn't come to school today, saying there was a rumor she'd been arrested, asking if it was true. A text here or there about a job or a party or someone looking to pay her to do their homework for her. Her parents the night of the party, asking where she was, why they'd gotten a call from the police. The friends from her lockscreen photo had tried texting several times, asking what was up, where she was, if she was okay. Clearly they stopped trying after a while of no responses. Aelwyn bit her lip and tried to text back now, damn the late hour. No message would go through. She felt her face grow hot in frustration. 

(If she'd have looked at the messages from the crystal company, she would've seen a notice of the family plan being cancelled due to unpaid bills and inactivity. When the Abernants fled back to Fallinel, they stopped caring to keep up such connections left in Solace. Adaine had since switched to share the O'Shaughnessy's cell plan, but no one had added Aelwyn yet. She had no connection.)

She exited out of their text conversations (she _wasn't_ giving up, she insisted to herself, just taking a break to look at other things first) and scrolled through the rest of her notifications. The last things to see were texts from Biz and Penelope, her co-conspirators, asking about the palimpsest and the party. Saying they heard she'd been arrested. Asking what the hell happened. Asking where they hell she went. Frustration and anger that she let this happen, that they needed to figure out what to do next, and without her. Fighting tears, Aelwyn put the crystal to sleep again and set it back down on the desk, face down.

Not far from the desk, a little ways off, Adaine had a standing mirror, which she kept covered with a sheet at night and most of the time when not in use. Aelwyn wasn't quite sure why she bothered; then again, Aelwyn hadn't heard or seen firsthand about what the Bad Kids had dealt with over spring break: in the forest, in Elmville, or in Hell. (Even knowing the Nightmare King and Kalina were no longer a threat, Adaine liked to be cautious. Or she was paranoid. Something along those lines.) 

Without much caution, Aelwyn pulled the sheet down and looked in the mirror. She saw the face of a young elven woman, caught somewhere between childhood and adulthood. Her hair was silky smooth, light blonde, in neat bangs over her forehead and draped long and straight down her back. Her eyes were bright blue. She had a beauty mark on the left side of her chin. She looked confident and proud, self-assured. Behind her stood two others, a man and a woman, each with a hand on her shoulders. Aelwyn didn't recognize her. The girl in the mirror was beautiful, perfect. Who was she?

Aelwyn stared at her. The girl stared back. Something in her eyes changed. Something piercing, cold, calculating. Something heavy and dull. The girl smiled; her face read confidence but her eyes read something else: doubt, fear, guilt. The pair of hands on her shoulders were now around her neck, and holding tight. Aelwyn's chest tightened. She found breathing suddenly difficult. The girl grinned back at her, perfect as ever. 

Tears streamed down Aelwyn's cheeks. She choked back sobs and fought for her breath. She grabbed her hair by the roots and tugged, pulling not quite hard enough to rip it out, but nearly. She wanted to scream but her throat wouldn't work. She stepped back, unsteady on her feet, and reached to the desk to balance herself. Her hand found the edge, and the handle of a letter opener resting on the desk. Aelwyn curled her fingers around it, felt the coolness and weight of the little metal knife in her hand. She glanced at it, then looked back at the mirror. The edge wasn't quite sharp like a real dagger, but it would do.

* * *

“How do you like Solace so far, Ayda?” Adaine asked. She poured freshly-brewed tea from the pot through a strainer into each of the two mugs. She took one mug in each hand and carefully brought them over to the table, using a mage hand cantrip to bring over sugar and cream. 

“It’s quite fascinating. Confusing, but fascinating.” Ayda gently took her up, added a cube of sugar, stirred it with her finger, and took a sip, all without bothering to wait for it to cool at all. Adaine smiled. Half-phoenix. “Fig has been showing me around Elmville and explaining things to me.”

“Mm,” Adaine nodded. She poured some cream into her tea and settled to wrap her hands around the mug, warming her fingers. “It’s not too overwhelming, is it? It’s very different from Leviathan.”

“Very different from Leviathan,” she agreed, nodding. “Many fewer pirates. It is a little overwhelming at times,” Ayda conceded. “But I like it.”

“That’s how I felt.”

“You didn't grow up here?”

“No, I did -- I mean, well, I sort of did.” Adaine sighed. “I’m _from_ Fallinel, originally, but my family moved here when I was very young. My father was the ambassador for a number of years. So I guess I’m not _from_ here, but...we moved when I was so little, I don’t really think of Fallinel as my home at all. I think of Solace.”

“I see.”

“I like it better here, anyway. Fallinel kind of sucks.”

“I don't have much experience in Fallinel outside of coming to your rescue,” Ayda mentioned. “But based on that alone, I think I would agree with you. Fallinel sucks.” Adaine chuckled. Ayda smiled a little. She liked making her friends laugh.

“Actually, I think getting kidnapped and imprisoned was my first time back in Fallinel since I was a little kid,” Adaine continued, chuckling. “I don’t really remember that much of it anymore. Elmville has just...always felt like home to me. Does that make sense?”

“I understand.“ Ayda paused. “Do you remember when you moved?”

“Um, not very well,” Adaine made a face and looked off, thinking. She’d been growing into her oracular abilities over the past year, and spent a great deal of her studies focusing on divinatory practices. She had been getting good at looking to the future; she wasn’t in the habit of looking back. Then again, she wouldn’t say there was all that much she’d _want_ to look back on, either. Ayda sat patiently and quietly, watching and waiting for her friend to continue. Adaine racked her brain for the memory. “I must’ve been about six or seven...we lived in the capital, in this big apartment in the governor’s ring. And one day my parents said we were moving, and we had a new house waiting in Solace, and that we should pack our things and go immediately. And they teleported us over and we got into a car and drove all the way up from Bastion City. I’d never seen a car before, I remember it frightened me.”

“I’m also afraid of cars. I don’t trust them.” Ayda nodded understandingly.

“Right. Um, and we got to the house...I think my parents were talking with somebody in the front garden, but we were just told to go inside and start unpacking.” Adaine furrowed her brow, thinking hard. It felt like something was missing. “Um...I remember being excited to have my own room. Aelwyn and I used to have to share. I guess it’s funny, we’re sharing again now.”

"Did you get along as children?" Ayda asked. "I don't know what it's like to have a sister. Were you not friends?"

Adaine had to laugh. "Not in the _slightest._ We acted like we hated each other. I guess at the time we did. 'Cause our parents always wanted us to be perfect and the same and exactly what _they_ wanted us to be. And Aelwyn always met those expectations, and I always came up short. We fought _constantly,_ even when we were little."

"Did your parents want that, too?"

Adaine paused to consider this. "I'm not sure," she said. "It generated competition between us, which I guess they thought would drive us to be better. But they were _always_ disappointed in me and saying things like, 'I don't understand why you can't be more like Aelwyn,' so I guess they did want us to be the same. Perfect and obedient." She sipped her tea. "Even the petty, superficial things. They were _pissed_ at me when I started keeping my hair short." She'd grown it out for years as a child, until one day in middle school when an unfortunate incident (aka a fight with her terrible classmate) left an amount of paste, mulch, and gum so tangled in her hair that no amount of magic or washing could salvage it. They'd had to cut it short; Adaine was mortifyingly embarrassed at first, but grew to embrace it. Her family hated it more than she did, so she learned to love it instead. "They wanted it long. Like Aelwyn's."

Adaine glanced up at a soft noise from the hallway. A beat later, a sleepy tiefling walked past the door and peered in. “Ayda? You in there?” she asked, yawning.

Ayda’s wings twitched and she turned to look behind at the doorway. “Hello, Fig. Yes,” she answered. The tiefling yawned again and smiled, shuffling in. She was wearing a very cozy-looking Cig Figs t shirt and lounge pants.

“What’s up, babe? Couldn’t sleep?” Fig asked, draping herself over her girlfriend’s shoulders.

“I’m having tea with my friend Adaine,” Ayda answered again. Some of her feathers ruffled up contentedly. 

“Oh. Dope.” Fig did not seem totally awake yet. She opened her eyes and looked to the elf, nodding and smiling a small hello. Adaine stared. “What’s up? You’re looking at me like I lost my horns or something.”

Adaine blinked. “Wait.” She set her mug down on the table, a look of intense thought on her face. Fig looked confused.

“What?”

“When did your horns grow in, Fig?” Adaine asked.

Fig shrugged. “Couple years ago. Why?”

* * *

Adaine spent most of midday unpacking her belongings and arranging them in her new room. Her _own_ room! _It won't be so bad here,_ she thought, _at least I don't have to share with Aelwyn anymore._

By afternoon, there were other hassles to contend with. As a sort of welcome party for the new ambassador, the family was to attend a dinner at the mayor's house. The Abernant parents insisted their daughters be groomed and dressed their best for the occasion. It certainly wouldn't do to have any embarrassments this evening, so proper preparations took time.

"Hold _still,_ Adaine," Aelwyn scolded, tugging on a comb. Adaine squirmed and whined.

"That _hurts!_ Will you _hurry up_ already?" Adaine shot back, scrunching up her face in frustration. She sat on the floor of her room, her sister on her new bed running a pearly comb through Adaine's hair.

"I'd go _faster_ if you'd _combed it already,"_ Aelwyn growled, working the comb through a tangle.

"I did!" Adaine frowned. It wasn't her fault it tended to curl in the humidity.

"Quit squirming, you'll ruin it," Aelwyn scolded again, using the comb to separate out neat strands to braid. Her own hair was already braided back neatly; she'd picked up the skill quickly, and had a lot of hair of her own to practice with. (Of course, hers was always silky and straight no matter what.) She pulled the strands taut and began to plait them together. Adaine whined again.

"Ow!"

"Be _quiet!"_ Aelwyn hissed. "Mother'll hear you. We're sup _posed_ to be ready by now. She'll be upset."

"But it hurts!" Adaine winced again as her hair was pulled back tight. Tears began welling in the corners of her eyes.

"Come on," Aelwyn said, getting nervous herself. She noticed her sister's fidgeting in the mirror. "You're not _crying,_ are you?"

"No," Adaine sniffled.

"Don't cry. Come on. Adaine," Aelwyn ordered, hushed and almost frantic.

"You're hurting me."

"Don't cry. Please don't cry. Adaine, please." Aelwyn glanced to the door. "Mother wants us ready. Please don't cry."

Adaine bit her lip and swallowed back whimpers. She sniffled and brought her hands up to wipe away tears. Aelwyn continued combing and braiding, trying still to be neat, but quicker and gentler too. Adaine kept as still and muffled as much of her pained squeaks as she could. 

They finished braiding and scrambled to get dressed. In the end it didn't look half bad at all. The pair of sisters hurried downstairs to meet their parents, already done up in their formalwear.

"Girls," Angwyn acknowledged, adjusting his cufflinks. 

"We're ready," Aelwyn announced, holding her head up. "I had to braid Adaine's hair for her."

"You did a nice job, Aelwyn," Arianwen praised lightly. Aelwyn grinned. Adaine tried to as well.

"We're running late," Angwyn grumbled, looking at his watch. Late, of course, meant on time, as opposed to preparedly early. "Girls, get in the car. We're leaving."

"We have a car?" Adaine asked, hushed, eyes wide with incredulity. Aelwyn rolled her eyes.

"Of _course_ we have a car."

Whatever hint of a smile Adaine had been tending evaporated back to frown. She trailed silently behind her family to their new car in the garage to go.

* * *

"Mother _fucker,"_ Adaine leaned back in her chair and said, almost chuckling, mostly to herself. "Aelwyn was _right!_ That _bitch."_

"Right about what?" Ayda asked, confused. She glanced to Fig for help.

Adaine started to laugh. "I can't believe it. She said I was making friends from the day I got here. She was right."

"Uhh, have you been charmed or something? I've known you for almost two years now and I know the regular Adaine would never say that," Fig said, still leaning on her girlfriend.

The elf shook her head. "No. We met a long time ago."

Fig's face scrunched up in confusion. "What? Nahh, I met you on the first day of school."

"What did Gilear used to do for a job again? When you were little."

"Uhh," Fig look off, trying to remember. "He was kind of a house husband for a while? I think before that he was some kind of--"

"Diplomat to Fallinel, right?"

Fig blinked. "Yeah, I think so."

"When I first moved to Elmville when I was little, there was a man who met us at our new house who said he used to be a diplomat to welcome us. He had a daughter with him."

"I don't understand," Ayda said.

Fig's eyes widened in recognition. "No _shit,"_ she gasped, standing up straight, wide awake. A grin spread across her face. "No _way!_ I remember that!"

"What's happening?" Ayda asked, glancing back to Fig, mildly concerned.

Adaine laughed again. "I met Fig the day I moved to Elmville," she explained. "I can't believe I ever forgot."

"Me neither. _Shiiiit,_ girl."

"I didn't recognize you with your horns."

Fig reached a hand up and gave one a rub. "Ha, yeah. I looked just like a regular wood elf until I hit puberty. _Damn!_ How come we never stayed in touch? I don't think I saw you again at all until Aguefort."

"I don't know." Adaine leaned forward again, wrapping her fingers around her mug again. "I don't know." 

"It's a good thing you met again," Ayda added, craning her head to look up at Fig, who smiled down at her.

"Yeah. Pretty lucky, I'd say. What are the odds?"

Adaine thought back to that day again. She sipped her tea. "Better than you'd think, evidently."

* * *

The Abernants arrived at their welcome party just a few minutes late. The politicians and socialites and all else in attendance laughed it off assuring them a couple of minutes meant nothing. Their parents maintained polite and cordial manners, but their daughters still felt the weight of their expectations bearing down on them. _Behave tonight, or else._

They were of course welcomed warmly and cheerfully by the mayor and her husband and all their guests over glasses of sparkling elven wine. A toast to the new ambassador Angwyn and his family. And of course, everyone was pleased to meet the charming and lovely wife Arianwen, and delighted to be introduced to their charming and lovely daughters. Proper and prim and well-behaved, even at such a young age, they were simply perfect (if perhaps one may have been slightly more perfect than the other). 

For the evening, they were a matched set. No bickering, no crying. They said hello and introduced themselves and answered questions and absorbed the cooing, aw-ing attention of the adults, enamoured with this perfect pair of porcelain dolls come to life. 

Aelwyn reveled in it; she liked being perfect, and praised for it. She glowed, she beamed. She never seemed to tire of introducing herself, of telling about their ages or of their home back in Fallinel, or proudly showing off her skills. _I braided my own hair tonight. I did Adaine's too. Oh, doesn't it just look lovely? What a talented young girl. Your parents must be so proud._

Adaine, on the other hand, lost interest quickly, and spent much of the night trailing her sister in near-silence. Aelwyn seemed more than happy to do enough talking for the both of them. As the evening progressed and more adults talked to them, it became clear to Adaine that they didn't actually care who they were. They were the adorable, prodigious, perfect children of the ambassador and the professor. They were fancy dresses and long, intricately braided hair. They asked the same questions and made the same comments and ooh-ed and aah-ed over the same responses and moved on with their conversations. Angwyn talked politics; Arianwen talked academics; the daughters didn't talk. They parroted back what they were expected to say, and received the same hollow praise as always for it. 

And she was right: after all the guests had gotten a chance to meet the beautiful daughters, they lost interest. When the meal was served, nobody cared what they thought. They were to sit up straight, look pretty, eat their food, say please and thank you, and not talk on their own. Not even Aelwyn in her teacher's pet stuck-up nature could keep up with or contribute to the conversations at the table. She was only a little kid, after all. But she kept her mouth shut; that's what mother and father expected, that's what mother and father wanted. Aelwyn wanted what they wanted. Adaine wanted anything else.

After dinner, Adaine found the adults even less interested in the children than before. There were no other kids in attendance even remotely close to their age, and they'd run through all there was to be showcased about them to entertain adults by now. Children were once again better seen than heard.

Tired, bored, and lonely, Adaine sought out her mother. She wove through the legs of partygoers until she found the familiar skirt of Arianwen's dress; feeling small, she tugged on it gently to get her attention.

"...and a great deal more research to be done in -- ah?" Arianwen was interrupted by the tugging and glanced down. "Ah, Adaine. What is it, dearest?"

Adaine looked up at her mother with pleading eyes. "Are we going home soon?" she asked. Her mother patted her head.

"Mummy's busy, sweetheart. Go find your sister." Arianwen gently pushed Adaine on to go. "My apologies, where was I…?"

Frowning but determined, Adaine wove once again through the sea of guests, this time searching for her father. Finding him, she walked up and deliberately wrapped her arms around his leg in a hug. Angwyn looked down suddenly from his conversation, caught off guard. He looked down to see his younger daughter clutching his leg.

"Adaine, what is the matter?" he asked, confused.

"I'm tired," she answered, holding on a little tighter. She thought about the way the little wood elf girl's father picked her up earlier today when she hugged him. 

Angwyn sighed and reached down to gently pry her off. "Go sit down if you're tired," he instructed gently. It was a much nicer, more patient tone of voice than she was used to from him, but she could tell why.

"Can we go soon?"

"The party isn't over yet. I'll get you when we're ready to go." He patted her on the shoulder and went back to his conversation. Frowning, Adaine slinked off.

For the rest of the evening, she spent most of her time sitting by herself on a couch, watching the adults mingle on. No one was interested in bothering her; most who even noticed her merely thought it endearing and pitiful, the young girl up past her bedtime, sleepily waiting for her parents to take her home again. She yawned and leaned on the armrest, frowning and fiddling with her hair, undoing some of her braids. Aelwyn meanwhile milled around, still looking for attention, but receiving none. Frustrated, she eventually came to join her sister on the couch. 

Glancing at Adaine, she scowled. "Don't take out your braids," she whined, exasperated. "I spent _so long_ on those."

"Too bad," Adaine huffed, puffing out her cheeks and continuing to unweave the strands one by one.

"They looked _nice_ for once."

"Nobody's looking anymore." Adaine kept her head down and kept working as Aelwyn looked up and around the party. Her little sister was right. She sighed and frowned, pulling her knees up to her chest and hugging them.

"Mother won't be happy," she added.

"Mother's never happy with me," Adaine pointed out.

"That's not true."

"Yes it is."

"She said you looked nice when we left."

"She said you did a good job. That's different." Adaine concentrated on unworking a braid. As the strands came unwound, they puffed out a bit, once again betraying a bit of their curly nature. She could never be perfect like they wanted her to be even when she tried; she found herself wondering why she bothered trying. 

"She meant both. Your hair _did_ look nice."

"I don't like it."

"Why not? I spent _forever_ on it." Aelwyn sounded irritated, but genuinely confused beneath the irritation. Like it didn't occur to her you could dislike something you'd been praised for.

"It took a long time and it hurt and it doesn't even look that good."

"Yes it _does._ It looks _fancy."_

"Fancy isn't the same as good."

Aelwyn scowled again and huffed. "Whatever." She wanted to protest, but knew this conversation would go nowhere else but a fight, and that was the last thing she wanted right now, because it was the last thing their parents wanted now. She held her tongue. 

Adaine kept working through her hair, methodically undoing each and every plait and letting it all fall loose. In her fingers, before her eyes, she found she began to hate her hair. It was long, but not as long as Aelwyn's yet. It took forever to wash and comb and dry and straighten and braid. It was never good enough. It was never what her mother or father or sister told her it should be. Nobody seemed to care what _she_ wanted it to be. She came to the conclusion that it wasn't her hair; it was theirs. And she hated it. 

Eventually she ran out of braids to unwind. The day caught up to her; the business of travel, the late hour, the timezone change, having to navigate the party and placate the adults appropriately all took their toll on little Adaine's wakefulness. She leaned on the armrest and tried to keep herself from slipping into trance. "Aelwyn?" she asked quietly after a long silence.

"Yeah?" her sister answered from the other end of the couch.

"I'm tired. Are we going home soon?"

Her sister sighed. "I don't know. I hope so."

"I'm sorry I took out your braids."

"Whatever." Aelwyn seemed too tired and disheartened herself to pick that fight anymore. 

After a while longer, the party finally drew to an end. Most of the guests had left already by the time Angwyn shook the mayor's hand and thanked her for the occasion. Arianwen found the girls together on the couch, skirting the line between consciousness and trance. She placed a hand on each of their shoulders and gently shaking them awake. 

"We're going home now, girls. Come say goodbye and thank you." Aelwyn rubbed her eyes and climbed off the couch. Adaine yawned and did the same. Immediately, their mother noticed her hair. "Adaine, what happened to your braids?"

"She took them out," Aelwyn answered before Adaine could explain herself. "I told her not to."

"Sorry," was all she could mumble in her defense.

"They looked nice, Adaine. I don't know why you couldn't leave just leave them be." Their mother sighed disapprovingly and shook her head. Adaine found she didn't really care right now what anyone thought. "Come along now." Arianwen led her daughters into the other room where Angwyn was finishing up with the mayor and her husband. She arranged the children before them and tapped their shoulders. Almost in unison, they both said their thank yous. The mayor and her husband were charmed, as usual.

"Thank you for coming, girls, it was lovely to have you," the mayor said to them, smiling. "Aren't they lovely?" She said to their parents. "I remember when ours were that age, so sweet. You must be proud."

"The Abernants are a very proud family," Angwyn nodded. "Thank you for dinner."

"Of course. Take care, now. Welcome to Elmville."

Arianwen took Adaine's hand and led the girls out to the car.

* * *

The three girls stayed up for a while chatting and reminiscing while they finished their tea. (Fig was more of a coffee girl, but she stole some sips from Ayda's cup every now and then. Neither of them winced at the scalding tea, the demon and the half-phoenix. They made a good couple, Adaine thought.)

"Gods. It's weird to think we were almost friends for years," Fig commented. 

"I guess it worked out in the end," Ayda added.

"I mean, I know I wasn't the Oracle when I was seven, but I think I predicted this."

"Oh yeah? How'd'you figure?"

"I seem to recall saying I thought we could be friends."

"Huh. Yeah, maybe." 

Time, they all agreed, was fucky. The three of them were all, in some way or another, functionally immortal. Whether fate was real or not, it sure as hell felt like they were all meant to be here and now together, to have met, to have been friends. Whether it was to happen ten years ago or ten years in the future didn't seem to make a big difference in the grand scheme of their lives. Time isn't so much a circle as it is a spiral. History, they ultimately decided, doesn't necessarily repeat itself, but it does echo. 

Finishing their tea, the girls set their empty mugs in the sink and bade each other goodnight. Ayda and Fig returned to their room together; Adaine made her way back to the wizard tower. 

Expecting Aelwyn to be trancing by now, if not still reading, Adaine opened the door quietly. When she looked in, she gasped at the sight. Aelwyn sat, crouched on her knees, shaking on the floor before the mirror. Her long, silky hair laid in erratically, unevenly shorn locks on her shoulders and on the floor around her. What was left on her head was a mess of tufts of varying length with frayed tips. In her hand she gripped the letter opened from Adaine's desk, and, staring manically at her reflection in the mirror, Aelwyn raised the blade again to shear another lock of hair from her head.

_"Aelwyn!"_ Adaine cried, rushing immediately to her sister on the floor. She grabbed Aelwyn's wrist and wrestled the letter opener out of her hand; Aelwyn tried to hold fast, but her trembling made it hard. "Give me that! What are you _doing?"_

"It's gone," Aelwyn muttered. Her breath was as shaky as her body. She stared in the mirror. Adaine looked too. She saw the same terrified, exhausted, broken girl she found, she rescued, once in Calethriel Tower and once in Sylvaire. Her face was wet with tears. 

"Gods, this is why I keep it covered," Adaine said, mostly to herself, moving around to put herself between her sister and her reflection. She grabbed Aelwyn's shoulders firmly and looked her in the eye. "Aelwyn, calm down. It's okay. I'm here. Deep breaths. What happened?"

Her sister looked her in the eyes and tried to ground herself with them. She tried to control her breathing but her chest still hitched up. "She's there, she's still there," she cried, weakly, eyes drifting back to the mirror. 

Adaine glanced behind her again. Casting a quick detect magic spell revealed nothing unusual about the mirror, no arcane presence whatsoever. Whatever Aelwyn was seeing was in her head. Adaine brought one hand up to brush a flop of hair out of her sister's face and looked her in the eye again. "It's okay, I'm here. What did you see?"

Aelwyn studied her sister's eyes again. Her shoulders heaved and tears came again. Adaine pulled her in close, wrapping her in a tight hug. Aelwyn squeezed her eyes shut and buried her face in her sister's shoulder, sobbing. 

"Hey. It's okay. Is this about Mum and Dad again?" She felt Aelwyn nod silently. She rubbed her back. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. They're gone now, they can't hurt us anymore. We're safe."

"I saw them," Aelwyn managed to say, barely more than a whisper. "They were with me. They -- I -- I didn't recognize myself…Adaine, what's happened to me?" She sounded like a terrified little kid. Adaine understood.

"I still think about them too. All the time," Adaine responded. If she slept, she was sure she'd have nightmares about them almost every night still, Nightmare King or no Nightmare King. "It sucks. I don't know if they'll ever go away fully." She thought about every look on her parents' faces up until their father was dead on the ground and their mother was chased off into the woods by hand vans, every look of disappointment and condescension and frustration and anger and unmet expectation she'd ever borne the brunt of. Every one of them burned into her memory and soul.

Aelwyn sniffed. She pulled away and sat back on her heels, having regained a bit of composure. She wiped away tears with the back of her hand and looked at the mess on the floor around them. "...my hair," she said. "It's gone. Why did I--?"

"Hey," Adaine interrupted her, grabbing her wrist again, gentle but firm. "Don't worry about that right now. It's just hair. It grows back."

"Tell me the truth, Adaine, how does it look?" Adaine made a face, trying to figure out how best to answer. Aelwyn crumpled again. 

"Hey! It's fine. We can salvage this. It's okay," Adaine reassured her.

"What are we to do, Adaine? What am I to do?"

Adaine sighed. "For now? I think you should just get some rest. Get in bed and trance. I'll clean this up, I'll figure out what to do next, just…" she sighed again and looked sadly at her sister. "This is hard. I know. I'm sorry. But the only way out is through. And I'm right here with you."

Aelwyn took a deep breath and nodded. Hanging her head, she wrapped her arms around her sister and pulled her in for another hug.

"Do you want to hold Boggy tonight?" Adaine offered. She felt her sister nod again. "Alright." Gently, she helped her sister to her feet. Aelwyn climbed up to the top bunk while Adaine retrieved her emotional support familiar from his terrarium and passed him up. She heard his signature comforting ribbit and smiled. "Goodnight, Aelwyn," she said.

She heard a very soft "Goodnight, Adaine," in response. 

Adaine sat on the edge of her bed and waited for a few minutes until she heard her sister's breathing smooth out into the regular cadence of unconsciousness. She glanced out the window and noticed now that the house was truly quiet; the storm had let up, and rain no longer pattered on the roof and windows. With a tired sigh, she looked back to the hair strewn about the floor and wondered what to do next. Aelwyn had had such long, silky hair. It was truly beautiful. She understood being devastated to lose it. But Adaine also understood wanting, no, _needing_ to get rid of it, too. It was an all too familiar feeling.

She messaged Fig.

_"Hey, Fig. Are you asleep yet?"_

She received a reply a moment later. _"Almost. What's up?"_

_"Are you free tomorrow? I have an idea I could use your help with."_

A beat. Then: _"I'm game. What's up?"_

* * *

The drive home was quiet. The girls in the backseat fought a losing battle with trance while their parents had a quiet conversation in the front of the car. Adaine stared out the window in sleepy thought. It had been a long, long day, and she was exhausted. But she had no idea what the next would be like. Would it be boring? Exciting? Good? Bad? Lonely?

"Daddy?" Adaine asked, looking to the front of the car. She saw her father's ear twitch.

"What is it, Adaine?"

"Can I go see Figueroth tomorrow?"

He sighed. "Who?"

"The girl. Her daddy was at our house today. She said we could be friends."

"No, Adaine."

She frowned. "Why?"

Angwyn seemed to grumble. "We will be busy, Adaine. And we do not have their number."

"Busy with what?" She asked, unsatisfied. "What number?" 

"Crystal number," Aelwyn jumped in. Her eyes were closed and her elbow was propped up on the door, holding up her head.

"What's that?"

"Can't you wait til morning to ask so many questions?" Her sister grumbled. Adaine lapsed back into silence and stared at her lap or out the window for the rest of the drive.

They pulled into the driveway at their new home a few minutes later. The order from Arianwen was to get washed up and right off to bed; for once, neither daughter had any intention whatsoever to disobey. They disappeared up the stairs to get changed and settle in for the night.

Adaine felt tired enough she thought she'd fall deep in trance the moment she climbed into her bed, but she evidently stayed awake a few minutes long enough after lights out to receive a message from her sister. (Ever the prodigy, Aelwyn had already learned that cantrip.)

_"Adaine? Are you still awake?"_

_"Yes. What?"_

_"Do you miss home yet?"_

_"We're at home right now."_

_"Our old home. Do you miss Fallinel, I mean?"_

Adaine paused. _"I don't miss sharing a room with you,"_ she finally messaged back.

A beat. _"Forget it. Goodnight."_ The messages ended. Their minds went quiet. Adaine blinked in the dark and silence for a moment before giving up and finally trancing after a long, hard day. 

* * *

"Got any fours?" 

"Go _fuck_ yourself, The Ball," Fabian spat out, pulling a pair of cards out from his hand and flicking them violently across the table to Riz, who grinned a gobliny grin and smacked another two down on top of them. Kristen and Tracker laughed from the couch. "Hey, you two can _shove it,"_ Fabian grumbled their way.

"How are you the worst Go Fish player I've ever seen?" Kristen asked, half teasing and half genuine. 

"She's right dude, you kind of suck at this," Riz added, rearranging his cards. "Gorgug, kings?"

"Go fish," he said, shaking his head. Riz leaned forward to draw a card from the deck. 

"I am _not,"_ Fabian protested.

"I haven't seen anyone lose as hard as you unless Adaine was playing," Kristen pointed out. "Actually, even then."

"Well, _yeah, fine, okay,"_ Fabian threw his hands up in the air. "But she's the fucking _Oracle,_ of _course_ it's stupid to play a game of _chance_ with her. Riz, gimme your eights."

"Go fish. It's also stupid to throw your hands up in the air when you get mad and show everybody your cards. Threes," Riz countered, holding out his hand. Fabian threw another pair of cards at him.

"Hey, speaking of Adaine," Gorgug spoke up. "I haven't seen her at all today. Did you guys see her this morning?" he asked, glancing to the clerics on the couch. They shook their heads.

"Nah, she's usually up pretty early. We slept in this morning," Kristen answered.

"What about Fig?"

Kristen frowned and glanced to Tracker. They shared a look of confusion. "I dunno about Fig," she said, looking back to the boys crowded round the coffee table. "Maybe they went out to get coffee or something?"

"Without taking orders?" Fabian scoffed, adjusting his deck. 

As if on cue, they heard the door turn and creak open from the front hallway. 

"Hey, who's the Oracle now?" Kristen joked, sitting forward. Guessed correctly, the younger Abernant walked in, wearing her signature denim jacket. 

"Still me, I presume," she said, smiling at her friends. They got a good look at her and let up a chorus of surprised and admiring noises. Her hair had been cut back about an inch or two to be level with her chin; instead of falling in straight and silky blonde strands, it curled out and around in loose ringlets dyed a pale blue. "What do you think?"

"Hey! Woah-hoh, Adaine!" Kristen whooped. "Looks good!" The others nodded and voiced their approval. She beamed. 

"We had a girls' day out this morning," Fig said. "Went to the salon." Trailing in behind Adaine, she came into the room next, her own hair not drastically altered but with a new dye job in the front, with a gradient from blue to purple to pink instead of just purple. Behind her trailed one more, holding her arm and looking less than confident.

"I like it, I like it," Kristen continued, nodding more. Her eyes fell on the third of their party. She didn't recognize her immediately. "Who's--?" she started to ask, recognition interrupting her question. "Oh, wow, no _way."_

Aelwyn avoided eye contact, feeling self-conscious. Adaine put a hand on her arm and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Her head was shaved down at the sides and she sported a short, fluffy blonde crop of hair at the top. It almost resembled Fabian's cut, though since returning from spring break he'd begun wearing his braided back. Hers was too short to braid now, but that was a good thing.

_"Damn,"_ Fabian said, impressed. "Is that _Aelwyn?"_

"Do you like it?" Fig asked, smiling brightly and shoving her hands in the pockets of her leather jacket. The cut was her idea.

"I _love_ it," Fabian said. The others nodded in agreement.

"It looks really cool," said Gorgug.

"I almost didn't recognize her," Riz commented.

"It's hot," Kristen said. Aelwyn blinked. Kristen glanced back at Tracker. "Right, babe? It's kinda hot." Tracker had to shrug in agreement.

"It is, yeah. Looks good."

Adaine squeezed her older sister's arm again. Fig nudged her gently in the side with an elbow. 

"I told you they'd like it," she said.

"Out with the old, in with the new," Adaine said. Aelwyn looked at her. She was smiling. It was good to see that smile again. 

"Thanks," Aelwyn said. "I like it too."

**Author's Note:**

> i am thinking all of the time and it's all about the Abernants. this is about 10,000 words longer than i set out for it to be but such is life. i wrote a lot of this on my phone and didn't realize the google doc hit 34 pages whoops. the lyrics in the title and summary are both from the musical Next to Normal. thank you for reading!


End file.
